Unfamiliar Ground [OPEN]

She'd just wanted to take a short walk. Her leg was feeling a bit better, and if she had to sit around all day smelling Shadowclan not foxlengths away, Brackenwing was going to lose her mind.

Now, there was no Shadowclan scent to be had, no rocky, bitter landscape. And Brackenwing still felt as if she was going to lose her mind. The silvery trap she'd stumbled into had been swiftly picked up by a twolegs, and she had protested with yowls and hissing loud enough that she was sure she could be heard across the forest. Everything had been a blur, the twolegs had poked and prodded her seemingly without end. She'd woken once to sharp pain in her belly, a sore ear, and something white and smooth wrapped carefully around her broken leg. That horrible discomfort had persisted for... She was sure, exactly. She just knew it was uncomfortable. The twolegs gave her water and bland, brown pellets that passed as food, and as much as Brackenwing had wanted to turn her nose up at their offerings, hunger had won out eventually, and she reluctantly ate. Sometimes the twolegs would simply pick her up, rubbing their paws over her marbled tabby pelt and coo'ing softly. There had been something almost... almost comforting about it, stirring up vague memories of Swiftspirit curled around her in Windclan's nursery. Brackenwing didn't understand why, and as almost-comforting as it was, it was also disconcerting. All she could really do was try and awkwardly remove herself from the grasp of the twolegs, and they usually relented after a little while, and then she would hide in a corner somewhere they couldn't quite reach with their paws. The strange covering around her leg was finally removed, and the odd pain in her belly slowly disappeared.

Not long after that she'd been put into another one of the strange silvery cages. Only the sunlight and grassy field that finally greeted her when she was released from her prison was unfamiliar. The air was cold and crisp, and large animals roamed around, a few lone fences and twoleg dens that somewhat resembled the abandoned barn that was visible past Windclan territory, and rolling hills as far as she could see.

The twoleg hadn't chased her down as she expected when she'd darted away from him, not quite sure where she was going, only that she wanted to be away from the silver cage. And... Brackenwing could smell cats, she realized. And dog. That gave her pause, the marbled tabby glancing around uneasily. The dog seemed to be at a distance, more concerned with the strange animals in the field than it was with her. She hoped that it would stay that way, but the scent of cat was closer. If they were avoiding the dog, they almost certainly knew these new surroundings better than she did.

"Hello...?" She asked cautiously, hoping very much that she wasn't about to be encroaching onto some rogue's territory. Wherever the twoleg had dropped her, these were not clan territories at all.

Astraeus was not sulking.

Thankfully, he wasn’t injured, or forced to wear a collar this time, but he was still incredibly irritated. With the situation, the humans, but mostly with himself. They’d caught him using the same exact trap he’d escaped when hunting with Astershine- the silvery wire concealed inside a burrow. Oh, shades. How utterly stupid could he possibly get? The lithe tom groaned inwardly, shifting position slightly. He couldn’t escape. Not yet. The dogs were, well, dogs, and they were so far away that his sense of direction was skewed. Hopefully, if he could get away from this farm in any direction, he might be able to recognize a landmark… or maybe even end up back at the Garden. That’d be pleasant.

Astraeus’ ears pricked at the sound of the voice. A marbled tabby. Her scent was muddled among the rest of the mingling cat-scents and the sterile smell of the pound, and he doubted she was a Clanner. He’d never seen her before. Maybe she was from around here?

“Hello,” he echoed, standing and stretching. “My name’s Astraeus. You?” The silvery tom padded over slowly, claws sheathed. She’d had her ear clipped, like many of the cats who had ended up here- he himself was fortunate indeed to avoid that fate. Astraeus stifled a yawn, flicking the very tip of his tail. Whatever had put him to sleep when he’d been kitnapped hadn’t quite worn off yet, it appeared.

No matter where he wandered on this stars forsaken land the scent of dog seemed to not be far off, was it perhaps following him? It was infuriating to think that he was being hunted or confined to this land, even when he had been freed from his little prison in Highstones. If it wasn't the dogs, then it was the assortment of animals much larger than him. Sablestrike wasn't quite sure if they were hostile or not, but the smell that they let off was enough to keep him from getting too close to them either way. Stars, this isn't going as planned at all. Rescue Nighstar and Harrierpaw, return to Shadowclan and set things right. It was supposed to be simple, but with no sight or scent of either cat his initial plan had to be revised. Now, all that he wanted to do was escape this place and return home, clanmates in tow or not.

Voices, he could hear voices- and scents! Whatever meager excitement he had felt quickly faded as one he recognized one of the scents. It was the rogue that had invaded his territory and given Sablestrike a fake name. Still, it was a familiar face he supposed. Trotting in the direction of the voices, Sablestrike found Asphodel, along with another cat, this one also somewhat familiar. He had seen her somewhere before, not at Fourtrees, somewhere before that. Yes, that's right, he had met her on patrol with Nightstar once. He had actually shown this cat some respect, an oddity coming from Nightstar, which made her name all the more clear in his head. "Brackenwing, correct? Long way from the territories, aren't you?" Almost as an afterthought, Sablestrike gave a curt nod to the rogue. "And you, Asphodel." This... This could be good. The Windclanner must have been a pretty capable warrior to earn Nightstar's respect, and the rogue had proven himself capable in a fight at the very least. If all that talk about seeing the lands outside of clan territory wasn't fake, then he might have just found himself a guide back to the territories.

There was no way Mr. Worm could make it out of here on his own during or after such a harsh storm. The area wasn't too unlike the farm he lived on, but it would never be his home. He was, however, pleased to be seeing so many new cats he'd probably have never seen otherwise.

He watched them greeted on another, a few seeming to already know each other. The names they introduced themselves with were... Odd. But who was he to talk? He was named after worms.

Being the bored old man he was, the dirtied white tom made his way to stand behind the tom that introduced himself as Sablestrike. He has already met with Whisperear, but it was nice to see them again nonetheless. "Pleased to see everyone is just as lost as I am!" He chuckled. "My name is Mr. Worm. Don't forget the Mr." He squinted,  one of few moments his eyesight worked against him. But he still smiled pleasantly at the forming group.

A silvery tom with yellow eyes had found her, though he didn't seem to be aggressive, which Brackenwing took as a good sign. With the scent of dog lingering in the air, they couldn't afford to fight, she was sure. Who knew if the beasts would turn their attention, and while they hadn't yet, it still made the marbled tabby nervous, green eyes glancing in the direction the scent came from skittishly. She'd never fought one of the beasts before, but she'd heard stories of their brute strength and large fangs.

"Brackenwing." She returned the greeting with an introduction of her own. Astraeus... A strange name, befitting a strange tom. He was no clan cat, that much was clear. Before she could say more, another cat had approached, smelling faintly of Shadowclan and seeming vaguely familiar.

"Ah Sable...paw? We've met before, haven't we? On the border, I think. And yes." She confirmed with a sigh. "Are the twolegs just... leaving cats here? They could have the decency to have left us back on our own territory-" She began to grumble, but her attention was quickly turned by the arrival of another. The twolegs had been busy, clearly, but her heart lifted to see Whisperear alive and well.

"Whisperear! I missed you!" She purred, "Yeah, I just wanted to take a short walk. I wound up finding one of their traps, and my leg was still healing... They did... Something to it, healed it somehow." And they'd done something else, that she wasn't quite sure about. But she could put weight on her leg without pain.

And another... "Stars... How many cats have the twolegs captured?" The tom was elderly, and his name was somehow even stranger than Astraeus' was. Mr Worm?

"...So nobody has any idea where we are? Wonderful. I don't trust what's over there." Her tail flicked, pointing in the direction of the dogs in the distance. "How long have you been here?" She asked the group at large, hoping that at least one of them might have some sort of knowledge about the place that she didn't.

More cats appeared, as if from thin air, and among them Astraeus noticed Sablestrike. Ugh. Right. He had to make a good impression on this tom. He was Lighttail’s brother, and Astraeus wanted Lighttail to like him. She was a pretty pelt, and charming company as well, with the way she sometimes got flustered… the silvery tom paid close attention to- Whisperear, apparently, now that was a stupid name- and Mr. Worm- eh, might be worse. “A lot, apparently,” Astraeus muttered, flicking the very tip of his tail. Hmm… which SkyClanners had gone missing… Dawnfeather, and that little apprentice- Crookedpaw? “I think they’re splitting us up. We’re pretty far out from the territories, here.” He had not traveled his whole life without gaining an accurate sense of direction, and though he had only the vaguest idea of which way the territories laid, he knew instinctively that they weren’t close. Not terribly far, either, but not a day’s walk away.

“Nothing we can do for now,” he murmured, stretching out and enjoying the faint sunlight. There were quite a few mice around, he’d noticed- maybe he’d practice his mousing while here. The silvery tom watched the others closely through half-lidded eyes, sizing them up. He doubted the two WindClanners cared about him- they seemed engrossed in their own problems. The old white tom didn’t matter. Sablestrike, though… Sablestrike might be a problem.

Sablepaw? Well, that made sense. A proper gathering hadn't been held since he had become a warrior, it was only natural that this Windclanner didn't know he had ascended to warrior status. He didn't correct the she-cat though, maybe her thinking he was just an apprentice still could be used in some way? As long as Asphodel didn't give him away. "Now why would they do that? That would be too kind of a thing for them to do after they've been stealing our clanmates.

As the cat approached Brackenwing, Sablestrike had to restrain himself from immediately pointing out the giant scar that covered the cat's neck. He knew he was staring at it, but it just couldn't be helped. It was such a large feature on her, stars it even covered over half of her neck, and it seemed to be affecting their speech.

Paw steps sounded behind him, and Sablestrike whirled around, claws at the ready for whoever might be approaching him. The tom couldn't hide his surprise as his eyes settled on the old tom in front of him. His fur was... white? At least some of it was, it was hard to tell with all the grime that he had accumulated. "Mistworm?" He had never heard of a warrior named Mistworm before, even while all of the clans had been stuck in Fourtrees together. How long had this cat been here? "Um, nice to meet you?" As much as he wanted to just dismiss this one entirely, he couldn't be sure if this cat was a long lost elder from Shadowclan, displaced after whatever the Dark Forest had done to his clan. He could find out later, but for now they had bigger problems to deal with.

"I've just recently arrived, and it sounds like the same can be said for you." Sablestrike turned to Asphodel, noting the cat's laziness. That wasn't good, if the rogue didn't want to escape then how would he get back to Shadowclan? "I didn't expect for you to give up so easily, Asphodel, considering you like to invade Shadowclan's territory. I would have thought that you'd like to be back in the forest where you could continue that habit?" Sablestrike shook his head as he finished. "How disappointing."

The old tom flicked his ears. He could have sworn he'd just heard the cat call him Mistworm, but maybe his ears were playing tricks on him. Mr. Worm eyed Sablestrike suspiciously, but decided it wasn't worth finding out.  

Besides, new information about these cats just cropped up: a forest. Now, Mr. Worm didn't leave the fields too often, but when he had there was a scent not too far off from what lingered on these Brakenwing and Whisperear cats. Beyond those fields lay a lush forest where four great trees stood that he once basked in as a kitten. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be from the fields, would you? You know... The ones near those four massive trees on the way to the pastures?" He probably knew nothing of this 'ShadowClan' or Astraeus, but his foggy old brain was finally picking up on something. Now hat he thought about it, hadn't he seen a bunch of cats gathered around in that area before this...? Surely not. He would absolutely remember seeing such an odd thing.

map of what Mr. Worm is talking about: